Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls
by Comrade
Summary: Back by popular demand, the revised edition of Because We Could
1. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

_ _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

Chapter I

"What you don't understand is that this man can be very dangerous." The man's voice was condescending. His accent set Hollace's teeth on edge. Hollace _hated accents, especially British accents. He would not be surprised if all the people in the world spoke like an American, but some used accents just to sound more important.Hollace's eyes rolled upward towards the office ceiling. Its shade of cedar brown was supposed to have a calming effect. It didn't. Hollace's hackles were up and pointed at the man at the other end of the phone line, Hollace's __private phone line. The only people allowed to call him on it were his secretary, his wife, and the woman he was sleeping with. How the man even got the number was a mystery._

"I know how sensitive the matter is. But one little detective sent by people with absolutely no _actual_ authority is nothing to get riled up over." Hollace was determined not to let the man get the upper hand. Mustering his wit he made a jab at the man, "You're worrying to much. You really _should_ learn to relax."

"Don't try to be smart about things you cannot possibly understand, Hollace." Hollace audibly choked on his anger. The man on the other line either didn't notice, or didn't care. "The situation is unacceptable, and must be taken care of. I want you to discourage Mr. Peterson from investigating further. If he's like any other independent investigator, he'll run away with his tail between his legs, give false information to his employers, and collect their money until they find out."

Hollace was gagging on his spite. "I'm not a child! I know what to do! Just leave everything to me as always and I'll get the job done!"

The English accent responded coolly. "Just peachy. Oh and one more thing Hollace."

"What?" Hollace snapped.

"Don't overestimate your value to us." The man promptly hung up, and the stillness left by the dead connection scalded Hollace almost as much as the man's curt behavior.

His face flushed with anger, Hollace practically punched his intercom button. "Ms. Walters, send in Mr. Peterson!" 

"Yes Mr. Hollace Sir." Her reply was prompt, polite, and obedient, which was what Hollace enjoyed from people. He was in a position of power and it was everyone else's obligation to do what they were told. The man he had just spoken to on the other hand did not deserve any such obedience. Not only had Hollace never even seen the man, he had not even been allowed the dignity of knowing his name. The Englishman's identity remained an enigma to Hollace. Even the full extent of his resources could not glean the information for Hollace, even though he was the Under Director of the New York branch of Umbrella, the multi-billion dollar international company that manufactured things from pharmaceuticals to bioengineering, and invested causes ranging from urban restructuring to biosphere experiments. 

Whoever the man was he commanded a lot of power, more than Hollace at least. He probably had more swing than Hollace's superior, the Head Director Jameson. But in spite of this Hollace smiled. He was still young, barely thirty-eight. There was plenty of time to climb the ladder, and pull the feet from under whoever was on top. All he needed to do was maintain his flawless record. The disposing of this nosy private detective Peterson would just be one more victory. One more assurance of his future success. The door opened and Hollace swiveled in his chair to face the man who had just entered. 

He was fairly tall, at least six-foot three, and his chestnut brown hair was cut short and neatly. Hollace hated tall people almost as much as people with accents. They always thought they were superior to others. Hollace sighed. At least the man was well dressed. He wore a sharp blue-gray three-piece suit and carried a crushed velvet fedora in his left hand. He took a few short strides to Hollace's desk, smiled comfortably, and introduced himself.

"Good afternoon Mr. Hollace sir. I'm Detective Peterson. I'm here on behalf of the Saint Michael's Institute of Medicine." 

"Sit down Mr. Peterson." Hollace was cold and unyielding. 

Gary's smile retained its almost plastic perfection, but he did not move.

Hollace waited, and stared blankly at Gary as he smiled back. This went on for a few awkward seconds. "Why aren't you sitting?" asked Hollace. 

Gary rolled his eyes. "You didn't say _please," Gary sighed with exasperation._

Hollace blinked. Gary blinked back.

"You can't be serious." Hollace said with a disturbed expression.

Gary nodded vigorously. "I'm very serious. Courtesy makes everyone get along, and I'm sure we want to be on the best terms possible."

Hollace paused. He wasn't sure whether the man was crazy or trying to be smart. Either way, Hollace disliked even more now. "Sit down. Please."

Gary gave a light chuckle. "Well now, that was fun. Let's get started."

Hollace's stomach gave a lurch. This was probably the most irritating man he had ever met. The sooner the etiquette freak left the better. "Mr. Peterson, I understand you came here under the impression that I would give you information."

"That's true, yes."

"Concerning activities involving our chemical research."

"That is correct. I'm hoping you'll be very cooperative. I'm sure such a respectable company like Bradley Pharmaceuticals would be more than willing to help me."

"And you are a… what is it again?" Hollace asked, although both men knew what Gary was.

"A free-lance information ascertaining expert."

"A private detective."

"That too." Gary didn't miss a beat. "It seems that the people over at the Saint Michael's Institute of Medicine are a tad unclear on the subject of your newest project."

Hollace didn't show his surprise. " I wasn't aware that the Institute was privy to our private projects. I certainly wasn't aware that they have a newly ordained right to pry into our business."

"Every citizen has the right to protect his fellow man." Gary shrugged. "They believe that your research company is involved with illegal tests along with Umbrella."

Hollace frowned. "Why do they think that?"

Gary smiled. "I can't tell you."

"This is ABSURD!" Hollace stood up. "I want you out of my office!"

Gary feigned surprise. "But Holly old pal, we haven't talked at all."

"You stupid smartass! I'm calling security!" Hollace's face was beet red, and his right eye was lightly twitching as he picked up the receiver. "Mrs. Walters! Send in security!" He didn't wait for a reply; he slammed the receiver down with a loud crash.

"Uh, Holly?" Gary pointed towards Jorsan's forehead. "You've got this little vein—"

"Don't call me Holly and I know about the vein!" Jorsan was on the verge of apoplexy. 

"Oh well good, the vein is pretty creepy. But about me leaving," Gary scratched his head. "That just doesn't work for me. You see I need to know about where you're doing something regarding the T-Virus." Gary watched Hollace's expression. The man whose face had resembled a baboon's ass only moments before was suddenly very white.

"How… how did," Hollace stammered, "how did you know about…" He quickly regained his composure. "You don't know what you're talking about. You probably just picked that up somewhere. And anyway it doesn't matter because soon you'll be gone." He finished with a triumphant sneer, although it was not very intimidating after a drop of sweat trickled off Hollace's brow.

The office doors opened and in walked two very imposing men; both wearing slacks and jackets bearing their last names and a security emblem. Gary didn't get up. He turned his head and nodded to the two security guards that firmly closed the door. Both men were over six feet tall and over two hundred pounds. One had deep black skin and a neat crewcut. The other was a tanned Caucasian with a shaved head.

"Hey how's it hanging guys?" Gary was not the least bit worried. "Nice jackets."

The black guard rested his hand on Gary's shoulder heavily. "Come on now friend," His voice was low and husky, "let's not get this all ugly." The force of the guard's squeeze let Gary know that things would have to get ugly. Gary raised his hands in the air.

"Alright, alright, no reason to get all fired up." Gary stood up and slowly turned around. As Gary turned, his arm pushed away the black guard's hand. Like a snake, Gary swiped his hands around the black guard's arm and twisted him into an arm bar. Gary pulled the guard up and drove his knee into the guard's testicles. The black guard yelped and fell to the ground coughing and twitching. Gary quickly picked up the chair and swung it into the other guard's face. The chair broke and its pieces fell to the ground along with the unconscious white guard. A kick to the black guard's face sent him on his merry way to dreamland. 

Gary lifted up his pant leg and removed a small .22 from an ankle holster. He pointed his gun at the now shaking Hollace and put on his most threatening look.

"Tell your secretary that you want to see my partner. He should be out in the waiting room by now." Gary's voice didn't reflect a drop of the courtesy it had before. Hollace reached unsteadily for the intercom button. Gary spoke again, causing Hollace to flinch. "Remember, act _natural." Gary said the last would with a smile and a relaxing sigh, and immediately thereafter became threatening again._

"H-Hello? Ms. Walters?" Hollace stuttered slightly.

Her voice responded via the intercom, "Mr. Hollace there is a… a gentleman here to see you. He _says that he's an associate of Mr. Peterson. Should I tell him to leave?"_

"Err, no Ms. Walters, I, uh, he is supposed to be here. Send him in."

Gary chimed in, his voice gushing with fraternity, "Come on in Carl, we've just about hammered out an agreement with our pal Holly."

Hollace glowered in spite of his peril. Only _he was allowed to talk to his secretary through his intercom. Hollace didn't have much time to sulk over Gary's transgression. The door opened and in walked a man who for every bit Gary was neat, was messy and unkempt. The man closed the door behind him and Hollace looked at him anxiously. He still wore on his head a duckbill cap and his brown overcoat was wrinkled and had flecks of mud on the tail. He was about six inches shorter than Gary was and his ebony skin seemed to shine in the office's lighting. The man looked at the two unconscious guards and shook his head. _

"For the sake of all that's good and holy Gary," the man said tiredly, "I hope you _needed to do this."_

Gary kept the pistol pointed at Hollace. He smiled at the man and said nonchalantly, "You know I'm not prone to frivolity, Carl. I'm a man of necessity."

"Yeah, sure thing." Carl reached inside his coat and removed two plastic zip strips. In Carl's opinion, there were certain criteria that needed to be filled when one purchased handcuffs. A good pair could cost upwards of 75 dollars. Another peculiar thing about handcuffs is that one only used handcuffs if one was planning on personally releasing the captured party later. Gary and Carl had no intention of releasing the men themselves, thus the utility of the zip strip, a long plastic cord that could be looped and pulled only one way, was obvious. The zip strip was intended for quickly attaching large bundles of things like wooden logs and newspapers together for easy transport. It was quick, cheap, lightweight, and didn't jingle or rattle. It was also very durable and could withstand large amounts of tension.

He took the zip strips and used them to bind the hands of the unconscious guards. He slipped the plastic threads through the built-in slits and pulled them firmly. They made a quick zipping sound as they locked securely in place.

"Alright now." Carl said, "let's find out what this little bitch has to say."

Gary smiled. "Carl, you are an inspiration." Gary then smiled at Hollace again. "Holly, we are going to find out where the facility is, one way or another."

All Hollace could do was sweat.


	2. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

By Tom Lazur

CHAPTER II

The seemingly never-ending road hurried towards Gary, then just as quickly hurried away behind him. Gary liked to think like this whenever he took long car trips. He enjoyed the picture of the Earth spinning and whirling in a certain way just to make sure the road went under his tires. If the world wasn't revolving around him, it was revolving _for him. Gary smiled at the thought. He joined his particular line of work so that he could do it for fifteen years, retire, and then write books had about his experiences for the rest of his life. The road was sandwiched between forests, and the winding road made it difficult to see what was very far ahead. Just then, a road sign ran by that read __Hemming Germ Research Facility Authorized Personnel Only. Gary thought to himself how wonderful it was to be an authorized person. It was such an important, official thing. He barely noticed the Warning__: Biohazard sign scamper by._

Carl had been able to glean the necessary information from Hollace. No doubt the timid businessman would try to cover his mistakes. Call in favors from the facility to dissuade him from entering. Gary had taken this into account while preparing for his trip.

Eventually, the globe started to slow down, and the surprisingly large research complex crept into view. Gary whistled. The building that was previously shrouded by trees was at least six stories high, and made of steel, concrete, and glass. It was juxtaposition when compared with the quiet, natural looking forest surroundings. The gates of the complex drew nearer, and Gary noticed that they were just closing. Beyond the gates, he saw a white bus moving down an opening that was probably a parking garage. The title borne on the back of the bus appeared to say _New York State Penitentiary Committee. Gary frowned and grunted. The reason why a prison bus would be out in the country, especially at a research facility eluded him. He thought back to his prior briefing, and only one possible answer registered. _

By the time Gary had reached the gate, it had closed, and the guard stationed inside a booth next to the gate got out and walked to the car. Gary rolled his window down, stuck his head out, smiled, and said, "Hey there! I'm Walt McIntyre on behalf of the Albany Science and Technology Newsletter." Gary handed him a false business card. "I'm here to see Mr. Yunoki."

The guard stared at Gary's card for a moment, then down at his clipboard, then up to Gary. "You're two hours early."

Gary stared back at the guard, his smile not wavering. "Well I've always been _extra punctual. There was a lot less traffic than I'd anticipated. Hope you don't mind too much."_

The guard didn't move. "I can't let you in."

Neither did Gary. "What?"

"No visitors can enter the facility early. You'll have to wait two hours. It's a very strict policy."

Gary's smile shrank, but he hadn't given up hope. "Oh come on, I'm sure someone would love to give me a tour."

The guard said evenly and firmly, "No."

Gary sighed. He wouldn't get anywhere with the guard. "Alright, I'll just wait for a while."

Gary put his car in reverse, backed up, and then made a U-turn. He drove about a quarter mile away and parked his car on the side of the rode. He sat and thought for a bit in silence, reached behind the seat, pulled out a manila folder, and removed a file from it. He began rereading his assignment. 

July 22nd.

To Mr. Gary Peterson, Private Investigator;

In the past you have served the Saint Michael Institute of Medicine and its members with admirable results. We have found your work and reports thorough and straightforward. It is with confidence that we again have employed your services. We have reason to believe that there is illegal activity being conducted at the Hemming Germ Research Facility in New York, and we need your expertise in discovering it. As of now we have only hearsay and speculation as of the illegal activities of the facility, and possess no physical evidence. Because of this we have no power to ask the authorities to intervene. What we wish you to discover is what is the true nature and extent of the activities, and who is responsible for them. We believe that the facility is wrongfully imprisoning various peoples and subjecting them to biological tests and experiments. We also fear that certain unknown sections of the Federal Science Association and Federal Environmental Association are somehow involved in the activities. This is an appalling and unacceptable practice, and must be uncovered. You will of course be paid your usual fee and a bonus of $15,000 (fifteen thousand dollars) upon completion of your assignment. We the staff of the Saint Michael Institute of Medicine wish you good luck.

At the end, there was an illegible signature, and the typed name of Charles F. Mooney, Head Administrator. Following the first letter, there was a short memo. 

Dear Sir;

The following items have been collected and dropped off at your office:

1.High Performance Nico Telescopic Photo Camera and high resolution film.

2.night vision goggles.

3.Custom made Colt .45 with laser sight and extended cartridge and 40 (forty) rounds of hollow and hard point ammunition.

4.Identification stating the existence of Walt McIntyre, and accompanying business cards

Be advised that there will be armed security personnel at the facility. Exercise caution. An appointment with Mr. Onu Yunoki has been arranged for 3:00 pm on the 24th. 

Mooney and the Institute also sent this memo. Gary smiled a little as he thought of how generous the institute had been in their outfitting of Gary's assignment. It wasn't often when all of his requests were filled. Perhaps he should have asked for more. There was one more piece of literature that had anything to do with Gary's assignment. It was a fax he had picked up in the morning. 

Dear Sir;

Please try to gather any information regarding the Umbrella Chemicals Corporation.We believe it is involved somehow. 

Now this last fax, also sent by Mooney, had really piqued his curiosity. All he knew about Umbrella was that it's headquarters was located somewhere in Europe, and that its name rang synonymous with rich, powerful, and inhuman. The only reason they had been able to escape being shut down by uncountable public safety laws was their money. The corporation was notorious for paying huge salaries for people willing to accept dangerous working conditions, and even accidental exposure to whatever they test. Gary wasn't quite sure what to expect now, but by God it was fascinating. His grin became wider as he thought about it. This could very well be the next profile scandal that made the right people rich, and he would be in at the ground floor! It almost made his mouth water. He was positive that the next few days would be nothing short of incredible, although as his mind went back to the suspicion of the illegal tests, he shuddered. The idea of testing whatever it was they might have there on actual humans disturbed him. Hopefully, all the fears would be bunk, and everything at the facility would be normal as far as germ research goes. Gary looked at his watch. There was still another hour and a half until the guard would let him in. 

He opened his car door and stepped out. It was still fairly warm out, so Gary's wool overcoat remained in the backseat, and he was dressed in a pleasant, gray, three-piece suit. Gary stretched his arms out, and as he lifted his arms into the air, his jacket opened, and his concealed shoulder holster came into view. He had learned in the past that there were many people prone to unpleasantness when certain dark secrets were brought into the light. He also carried a retractable baton in a concealed jacket pocket located in the inseam. One could never be too careful. Gary stood six feet and three inches tall, and was solidly built. Being physically fit also proved to be quite useful in his career so far. He took a short walk down the road and back to his car to get his blood moving, looked down at his watch again, and got back in the car. He started the engine, and drove down the dusty road for the second time.

The iron gates and guard station were a familiar sight. Joining the guard this time though, was a man in a white lab coat. They both had grim expressions, and the one in white was fidgeting. As he pulled up to the guard post, he dusted off his smile, and replaced it on his lips. "Hey there again! It's me. I'm two minutes late, I hope that won't count against me."

The guard was unmoved. "I'm sorry sir, you'll have to return tomorrow."

Gary stopped smiling. "Hey look, I was just _kidding."_

The man in white spoke. His brow was furrowed, and his glasses resting on his nose made him look like a nervous rodent. "I'm sorry Mr. McIntyre, but he have to close the facility to visitors today. There was a gas leak inside, and we don't want to be held responsible for people not covered on our insurance policies. I hope this won't inconvenience you too much."

"_Inconvenience?! It's a four-hour drive to the nearest motel! I had an appointment! I don't want to have to drive back out here again!" _

"I'm sorry Mr. McIntyre. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Gary's face was a picture of confusion. "What in God's name is so important that I have to…" Gary was drawn towards the facility's parking lot. From the opening that he had seen the bus enter, he saw two Jeeps peal out in a hurry. Inside each of the Jeeps there were two men dressed in khaki uniforms. The Jeeps turned away from Gary's car, then headed down a road leading to the back of the complex. Gary looked from the Jeeps to the man in white and said, "Ah, well, I am not happy about this, but judging from how thick-headed you guys have been so far, there's no sense in arguing. Just what's your name, anyhow?"

The man in white half sneered and said scathingly, "Smith. Joe Smith." 

Gary stared back at _Smith, and a few moments of silence passed by. Finally, Gary smiled again, and said, "Well Smithy, see you tomorrow. I hope you've removed your thumb from your ass by then."_

The man in white scowled but Gary didn't see him do it. He had already turned his car around, and was driving away from the complex. He knew that getting inside the facility today would be impossible. But in the meantime, the next best thing was still feasible. Gary drove until he couldn't see the guard post any more then turned off the road. He drove between the trees perpendicular to the road and after awhile, stopped and got out of his car. He walked to his trunk, opened it up, and removed his high powered camera. He started to walk parallel to the complex which he could still see the top of over the trees. After he had made it to the east side of the complex, he looked for some higher ground. About thirty yards ahead, there was a sudden and steep incline of rocks and earth that was covered in dirt and a solitary elm tree. It rose about twenty feet above the ground, and was more or less what Gary was looking for. He walked up the incline and stood on top of the hill. He could just see the complex and it's surrounding courtyard. He raised the camera to his eyes, and through it, was able to see quite clearly what was going on inside the gate. 

The man who called himself Smith was having a heated argument with another man in a white lab coat. The other man was Asian, and wore glasses. The Asian one shook his finger at Smith, then pulled out a radio, and started to talk into it. Gary started snapping pictures. He then turned his attention to the backside of the complex. He saw a trail leading out behind it, and after following it for a moment, he caught sight of one of the Jeeps. Gary scanned for the other one, but could not find it. Gary took some pictures of the Jeep, then looked all around the surrounding forest, but couldn't see the other Jeep anywhere. This began to make him nervous. His car was not far from the facility. The Jeeps might chance upon it and they would radio the complex about it, then Gary would be in a lot of trouble._ A thought occurred to Gary. Just what were the men in the uniforms looking for? He doubted very much that it was a runaway gas leak. _

A twig broke. Gary snapped his head to his left, and saw a man stumble out of some nearby brush. Without taking a moment to think, Gary whirled around and hid behind the nearby elm tree. Gary softly muttered obscenities under his breath. He listened to the ruffling of leaves and dragging of feet on dirt as the man approached. Working very hard, Gary racked his brains for an excuse to be wandering around in the forest outside a germ research facility in a three-piece suit with a high-powered camera pistol. Only one possible answer came to mind, and Gary thought it would sound really stupid. He gritted his teeth, then turned to meet the approaching man.

"Hey! Dou you mind? You're scaring away the birds… What the hell?" Gary was puzzled as he looked at the approaching man. The man was only wearing a hospital gown, had something red smeared on his mouth and chest, and looked like he was plastered beyond comprehension. As Gary looked closer at him, he saw that his pupils and corneas were almost white. The man let out a raspy moan and started to shamble even quicker. 

" What are you… doing?" Gary started to back away. Before he could do anything more, the previously undetectable Jeep came plowing out of the shrubbery, and rolled to a stop only ten feet away. One man took out a hunting rifle, and the other took out an air pistol. The drunken man turned to face the Jeep and let out another moan. The man with the air pistol leveled it at Gary, and Gary lifted his hands in the air. There was a quick _PFFFT! And Gary's world twisted and shrunk until it was a little ball of black that erupted into inky darkness. The last thing he remembered was the sound of a rifle firing_


	3. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

Chapter III

Gary didn't know how long he had been unconscious. When he woke up, he didn't have his watch, nor was there a clock anywhere in the room he was in. He guessed it was around seven 'o' clock because through the room's only window he could see the sun was beginning to set behind a very picturesque outcrop of hills. The room he was in was very Spartan in its décor. He was lying on a cushion futon that served as a mattress on top of a wire bed. There was another unmade bed to his left, and a closed wardrobe in the corner of the room. There was only one door, and Gary assumed it led to a hallway. The door had an electronic lock, and a little light above the knob was shining in red. From the window, he could tell he was about four stories up, and there were two more above him. Gary was a little cold. The reason for this became obvious to Gary after he saw that he had no clothes._ He was garbed only in an undershirt and boxers. He felt very violated. He could only hope that several, very attractive women undressed him, but that prospect seemed unlikely._

Gary looked up to the ceiling corner over the door, and saw a video camera. He looked at the camera for a few seconds, extended his arm, and flipped his middle finger defiantly at the machine. At that moment, a little light on the door's knob turned from red to green and the door opened. 

In walked several people. One was Smith, another tall man dressed in a security uniform, and a striking woman in a short lab coat and skirt. He frowned at the men, but gave the woman a polite smile. Smith looked even more apprehensive than the last time Gary saw him, and that comforted him a little. He was however, a little disappointed to see a gold wedding band on the woman's left ring finger. Smith was the first to speak.

"Mr. McIntyre, we're very sorry for any trouble we have caused you…"

"You'd better be. For this outrage, heads will roll. This, I promise." Gary made the point very clear that he was quite bitter.

"I'm sorry Mr. McIntyre, there was a confusion back there in the woods and…"

"Confusion. _You shot me! That kind of thing is eligible for a lawsuit. I am a respected journalist, and I am very insulted by the way I was accosted after being spurned away from your facility." _

Smith was getting very perturbed. "I'm sure every respected journalist in Albany carries a concealed firearm in his possession when…" 

"Eh-hem." The woman in the coat cleared her throat and stared at Smith, and he stopped in mid-sentence and glared at her.

Gary smiled. "Go ahead, I believe you were saying something?" The woman was obviously in charge.

Smith turned his glare to Gary. Then back at the woman. " I was just apologizing for the obvious mistake in which you were accidentally hit with a tranquilizer dart, and sedated for the last four and a half hours."

Gary sighed. Four and a half hours was plenty of time to learn who he was. He looked down at his sheets, and looked to the woman. "Let's cut the crap, huh? You've found my car by now and stolen it, files, and everything else I have. My clothes too apparently. You know who I am, and why I'm here. I also know that I was in a sense trespassing, and you had told me to leave." The woman looked from Smith, then back to Gary, and he continued. "Now seriously, I don't see what can be possibly accomplished by keeping me here. Why don't you give back everything you took including my camera, and let me go home?" 

The woman finally spoke. "I'm afraid the camera you had got damaged."

Gary raised an eyebrow. "Really?" 

"Yes, you must have dropped your camera when you fell."

"How unfortunate. I suppose after it fell and hit the unforgiving grass and dead leaves, the faulty film case broke open, and the entire roll fell out and was exposed."

The woman was stone faced. "That is pretty much what happened. We'll be more than happy to reimburse you for the cost of the camera."

"Of course you will. I don't suppose my car exploded or anything?"

"No your car is safe in our parking complex."

"Well then, I suppose you'll give me my clothes, personal effects, and a substantial check for the very painful and expensive loss of my beloved camera."

"Your clothes are in the wardrobe, but I'm afraid you can't leave just yet. There are some matters we need to discuss."

The hairs on the back of Gary's neck stood up.He didn't like the sound of that. He didn't however drop his poker face for an instant. "Just what do we need to discuss?"

"Possible misunderstandings in what you might have seen today."

"Such as?"

"The bus you saw before…"

Gary interrupted the woman, his face a mask of confusion. "What bus?"

The woman stared at Gary for a heartbeat. "Never mind. The security members in the Jeeps, every facility so far from local law enforcement should have some protection."

Gary nodded. "Of course."

"The man who you saw outside the complex…"

"Obviously drunk."

"Close, very astute of you Mr. Peterson. Someone in our infirmary had a little too many painkillers. The blood on his face was why he was in the infirmary. He fell and knocked a tooth out. After he was drugged, he must have woken up, and wandered off in a dazed stupor."

"Happens all the time." Gary smiled. "This has all been very clarifying. Except for one thing." The woman's eyes widened just a little, and her nostrils flared. Gary pretended not to notice. "Where's the man who was sedated. I'd like to see him. Just to see if he's okay."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. He's not here anymore."

"No?"

"No, he was sent to the nearest dentist. Our employees' health is our primary concern."

"A very good thing to believe in. I guess everything has been cleared up?"

A beeping suddenly started emanating from Smith's coat, and he pulled out a radio. He put to his ear and snapped, "What?" He listened intently for a few seconds, then his face went pale. "We'll be right down." He pushed another button on the radio, then motioned to the woman. She frowned, then walked with him to the door. The guard followed them and they all exited the room and closed the door.

Gary jumped to his feet. "HEY! Where are you _going? Come __back here you bastards!" He fumed and pounded against the door. He then put his ear against it. All he heard was the woman's muffled command that the guard would stay where he was. Gary needed to get out of there, and fast. _

Gary was sure he had heard a rifle before losing consciousness. The intoxicated man was more than likely dead and Gary felt that if he didn't watch out, he'd end up the same way. He had probably been exposed to whatever _thing that they were testing and was trying to escape. Word of what had happened had to be released. He wouldn't be able to do any good for himself in the room, so escape was his first priority. He looked down at himself. Maybe escape was his second priority. He needed to get dressed.___

Gary rushed to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside there was his vest, pants, coat, socks, dress shirt, and shoes. He dressed quickly, and as he put on his coat, he felt something hard against his chest. They missed his baton! He moved his back to the camera to hide what he was doing, opened up the concealed pocket, and pulled out his baton. It was made out of titanium alloy, very light, but almost unbendable. Right now, in its retracted form, it stood merely six inches long. He flicked a button on the end of the baton, and it extended almost three-fold, into three segments. He smiled, retracted the baton, and glanced about the room. He went to the window and looked out again. The sun was beginning to submerge behind the hills, and the sky was painted in a warm pink glow. Gary thought the view was pretty, but he didn't have time to admire it. He put his head against the glass and looked all around the window, but there were no landings or balconies in view outside, Not even a fire escape. The sheer drop of four stories to the ground would cripple him if it didn't kill him. He would have to make his escape through the door. He walked over to it and examined its lock.

The door itself was made of a strong aluminum. Breaking it down with sheer force would be next to impossible. The answer would have to be in the lock. It was an electric lock, and had a card reader next to the knob. He assumed there was one on the other side, and that the guard had a matching card. The locking mechanism wasn't very large and Gary wondered how complex it could be. Gary studied the video camera, which was whirring away contentedly. He took one of the sheets from the bed and threw it over the camera, obscuring the lens. Returning his attention to the lock, he probed and poked at it and the handle for a minute. He took out his baton and extended it. He would have to be quick at his work because the guard would figure out was he was doing soon enough. Gary drew the baton high in the air, then brought it crashing down on the lock. He waited for any sound of the guard, but didn't hear any. He proceeded to whack the lock, loud drumbeats the only result from his endeavor. 

After several long minutes, Gary stopped. He thought he heard something. Something in-between the banging of the baton. He listened. They were distant popping noises. It was gunfire._ Gary frowned and concentrated on the sound__. Gary dropped to his hands and knees, and put his ear to the floor. The gunfire was coming from the floor below him. The situation was escalating to either mass executions or some kind of firefight. His eyes went to the lock, the covered camera, then the wardrobe. A proverbial light bulb just sparked to life above his head. _

Gary got up and ran to the wardrobe. He swung his baton at the wardrobe, cracking and splintering the wood. He rained down crushing blows on the piece of furniture until it was split down the side. He grabbed the sheet from the camera and used it to grab a four-foot piece of wood, keeping the splinters off his hands. He then raised the board over his head, and with a loud bellow, sent it on and through the camera. The camera smashed and an electric current fried and burnt the end of the board. The ruined camera burned and fizzled for a moment, then died. Gary smacked the camera a few more times, sending metal debris all over the floor. He bent over and studied the wreckage, sifting through it with his hands. Finally, he came across a shard of metal, paper thin, and seven inches long. Just then from outside the door, he heard the guard yell. "HEY!"

Gary froze in fearful expectation that the guard would enter the room. But he didn't. Instead, he kept on yelling.

"Don't get any closer, I'M WARNING YOU!" The guard wasn't yelling at Gary. 

Gary squinted at the door. The concept of what was going on eluded him. There were more gunshots, but these came right from the hallway. Gary gaped at the door, then hurriedly ripped the sheet. He tore off a small piece, then wrapped it around the end of the shard. The guard screamed. Feet shuffled and people moaned. What was going on out there? He took the shard then shoved it into the card reader. Electricity crackled and burned as the shard went super-hot. Gary let go and watched the shard do its work. After a few moments, the crackling stopped, and the red light on the lock went out. Gary put his hand on the knob. It was hot but bearable. He wrenched hard, and the door gave way. Gary laughed triumphantly, pushed the door open, stepped outside, then looked at the most disturbing thing he had ever seen. 

The hallway was once very immaculate. Gary could smell the Lysol, and the wall was white to the point that it reflected light. At least where there was no blood on it. Bloody streaks made by fingers smeared one wall, and on the floor next to the bloody wall was the sight that caused Gary's revulsion. The guard was on the floor, his pistol on the opposite side of his body. Kneeling on top of the fallen guard were two men, and they were eating the guard. They chewed and gnawed at his flesh, tearing off hunks and gobbling them down. Blood was sweeping across the floor and spreading across the wall. From the door leading to a staircase, Another man came shambling out. He was dressed in a blood-spattered lab coat, and his body was cut and bruised. His face was slack and his jaw was agape. His, no _its, eyes were colorless and glossed over, the overhead light shining off a thick mucus on the eyeballs. Any sense of free will or thought was long gone from the grim visage. It stretched its arms out, wringing its fingers at Gary. The two on the floor got up to their feet and turned to Gary. They both moaned and started to advance._

Gary raised his baton in a ready position and shouted at the affected men. "GET BACK! GET THE FUCK BACK! DON'T YOU COME NEAR ME YOU FUCKERS!" The creatures didn't listen, and kept on the stumbling advance. "ALLRIGHT YOU ASSHOLES!" Gary snapped the baton down on one of the creature's arm and then to its chin. The creature grunted then kept walking. Gary ripped into the creature, smashed his baton into its face, kicked it in the stomach, and elbowed it in the neck. The creature gagged, took a step back, then kept on walking towards Gary, its fingers twitching greedily. The other one was dangerously close, and Gary backed away. Cold sweat was beading on Gary's forehead when his foot bumped against the back wall. Gary yelled out and sent a spinning blow to the neck of the approaching enemy. There was a satisfying _crack, and the creature's head went limp. It kept on walking. Gary howled in frustration and disbelief. There was no possible way the thing could be alive. Gary's blood went cold. This was no drug-induced state of aggression. These men were dead. Their bodies were cold and devoid of life. Gary hit the limp-necked zombie on the head with all his might, and it finally fell down. Gary looked up to the next one. It was only seven feet away. Gary jumped it the air and kicked his foot out at the walking corpse. It landed solidly in the zombie's face. Teeth broke and the jaw was dislocated. Gary cracked it in the face twice with his baton, then rolled his shoulder underhand to catch it squarely in the gut. He followed up with body blows with his fists, then brought his baton down like a stake and drove it into the zombie's chest. It didn't break skin. It just sent the zombie reeling. Gary's quick mind caught onto a pattern. The creatures seemed to slow down the most whenever they were hit in the head. That was their weakness, and his only chance. _

Gary leapt forward and swung his baton like a bat against the zombie's temple. It connected, the corpse twitched, and then slumped over against the wall. Gary looked down the hallway. The one zombie that had entered the room was now five-strong and the closest was about twenty paces from the dead guard's body. Gary sprinted for the body and searched its pockets hurriedly. He found a key chain, and hooked on it was a keycard. He also found a clip of 9mm bullets, there were twelve in the clip. He looked past the body, the gun was lying on the floor. He rose up to get it, but the zombies, now eight in number, were already walking on and past it. 

"FUCK!" Gary screamed out. He looked to the adjoining hallway doors. There was the one he had exited, marked 5, and four more down the hall towards the elevator and stairwell that the zombies had come from. Behind him were two more, one marked 7, and the other one SECURITY. He bolted for the latter. He went for the lock, but noticed it was already shining green. He opened the door, and saw before him another walking corpse feasting on the remains of a second security guard. Gary slammed the door shut, and ran the keycard into the reader. The light blinked red, and the door was locked. He rushed it, jamming his baton into the back of the unaware zombie's head. It gurgled then fell to the floor. 

Gary examined the room. It had two desks, a video monitoring station, a water cooler, several cabinets, and a locker. He bent down and put his hand to the guard's neck. There was no pulse. After a search of the guard's body, he found a 9mm pistol, and a set of keys matching the first guard's. He slid the clip from the pistol and checked it_. There were eight bullets. At leas the guard died fighting__. He pocketed the extra keys and removed the belt from the guard and put it on. He knew the pockets on the belt would keep his ammunition ready, and he put the spare clip in a side pack located the side. He ran to the cabinets and took his handy key chain and started comparing keys to the cabinets' locks. _

At that point, the hallway door started to rattle and bang as the zombies outside began to assail it.Gary swore when he dropped the key chain, and on his way back from picking it up, he banged his head on the bottom of the cabinet. Gary rubbed his head and picked a new key to try on the cabinet. After a few more, one finally fit and he heard a hollow _chunk when the lock was turned. The materials locked within were bountiful supplies of legal-sized paper and black pens. Gary snarled in disappointment and pulled the paper out from the cabinet and onto the floor. He quickly opened cabinet after cabinet, but they yielded nothing more than office supplies. Gary looked around the room a second time. His eyes fell upon the locker. He had forgotten about it. _

Gary approached the locker, stared at its lock, then angrily started rifling through the keys again. After he had found the key and opened the locker, he let out a sigh of relief. Inside, on a shelf, his commandeered pistol and clips were lying peacefully. He took up the arms and strapped on the shoulder holster and clips. Also inside the improvident locker was a high-powered air rifle with a closed box next to it. He took both and placed them on the nearest desk. Inside the box, twenty darts were packaged in Styrofoam. Ten were blue and labeled Tranq-5, and the other ten were red and labeled Neuro-Z. _Alright, now I feel better. Unfortunately, Gary realized he wouldn't be able to fight __and carry it all. He frowned and looked around. On the floor under the other desk, there was a duffel bag. Gary emptied out the squash paddle and athletic shoes inside, and replaced them with the box. He slung the bag and the rifle over his shoulders, both holding the other in place. The hallway door was starting to become loose on its hinges, and the moans from the perished foes were getting louder and more voracious. Gary gritted his teeth and took the cardkey in his left hand, ran it through the reader, dropped it, and took up the .45. The light turned green, Gary kicked the door out with his foot, and launched himself into the arms the hungry damned. _


	4. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

CHAPTER IV

The door itself knocked one of the zombies back through the swarm. Another lurched towards the now open portal and threw itself at Gary, slobber rolling off of its swollen lips. The zombie was met by three 9mm bullets in its head, each leaving a small hole. The stricken zombie faltered then fell as Gary pistol-whipped it with the freshly fired gun. Gary leveled his .45 at the next, the small red dot of the laser sight resting on its eye. He fired a single shot and the bullet struck true to its mark, popping the eye like a grape and bursting the back of the zombies head. It twitched then collapsed on the floor, spasms rippling throughout its decaying body. The zombies kept on their fearsome march, gasping out moans and wails, all ravenously grasping for Gary's flesh. Gary took step after step backward, retreating further and further into the office. He fired round after round into the ten remaining zombies, every now and then one of his undead enemies falling. 

Gary's 9mm had spent its nine bullets and started clicking. He let it fall to the ground, reloading would be impossible under the circumstances. He gripped the more powerful .45 with both hands and continued his barrage. Soon, his gun was empty. Gary snarled and delivered a heavy kick into the center mass of the closest creature, sending it back to the others, pushing them away a few precious feet more. Gary released the spent clip, and took another from his shoulder holster. He jammed it in, and started firing again. The red light danced and frolicked from head to head, and was followed by a small, bone-cracking explosion. Blood was coating the room. The ground was getting sticky, and the bittersweet smell of the blood was accompanied by the ripe pungency of decay. Twice Gary had to blink away blood that had splattered onto his face. His expensive suit was already ruined. 

Gary observed that after the zombies had their heads busted and broken, they would lose all control of they're bodies and collapse. He could only pray that they would stay down. There was one zombie left, and at that point Gary had already emptied the new clip. There was no time to reload. Gary rammed the stock of the gun into the zombie's forehead and knocked it halfway over backwards. Gary kicked its feet out from under it, and it laid there, totally at the mercy of him. Gary let out a savage cry and brought his foot crashing down on the monster's face. It crunched and squirted open like an overripe cantaloupe. Gary emptied the gun and slapped in another clip. Gary returned his aim to the opened door and didn't move. Gary listened for any threat, any evidence of another one of the creatures. 

Gary took a deep breath and picked up the dropped 9mm. He holstered the .45 that he now only had thirteen bullets for. Gary replenished the 9mm with his last clip of the kind. The only considerable positive to his situation was that he didn't have to bother reloading again_. The 9mm clip had twelve fresh bullets in it. Taking extra care, Gary crept over the twitching corpses. He tried to step on the festering bodies as little as possible, but nonetheless, he still had blood, brains, and many other unrecognizable juices sliding off his shoes and pant legs__. Gary entered the hallway. Previously, the hallway was white and sterile looking. Now however, it was painted in crimson__. Gary crept his way over to where the first guard had dropped his pistol. Gary found it and picked it up. Gary removed the half-spent clip and threw the empty pistol away. He then wiped his hands on a clean spot on the wall. Then Gary heard a moan. He snapped his head up and stared at the stairwell door. The echo of shuffling feet on carpeted floor was unmistakable. Despite all his efforts, there were still more of the monsters. They didn't stop. Another zombie began to emerge from the stairwell. Gary bellowed savagely and charged the advancing corpse with his arms raised. He met the monster full on and knocked it down the stairs. It rolled and bumped as it tumbled down the steps. It collided with yet another set of the decaying cadavers. Gary didn't stop to count them and rushed upstairs. After one flight of stairs he saw a sign on the wall labeled __5. The door to the floor was closed, and also locked. The lock needed a normal key to open, but none of the keys that the guard had fitted the lock. The footsteps below had started again and the horrible wailing of he creatures below haunted him. Gary looked up again. There was only one floor left. If it wasn't open, Gary did not know what to do next._

Gary ran up, taking the stairs two at a time. At the sixth floor the staircase ended and there was only one door._ Fortunately, the door was unlocked and Gary hurried through, closing it behind him. This floor was much nicer than the previous one. The floor was carpeted in a dark navy blue, and the wooden walls were adorned with several aesthetically pleasing paintings. A plaque next to the door read __Executive Floor. His footsteps were muffled and the air smelled nice. The foul aroma that had permeated the lower floors was not present in this luxurious vestibule. Gary walked down the hallway glancing at the paintings as he passed them. The path curved and Gary turned the corner. Immediately ahead of him he saw an empty receptionist desk. The chair was overturned. On top of the desk was a phone. Gary grabbed the receiver, but his heart sank into his gut when the line was dead. He pushed all the hold buttons on the phone, but none of the lines were operating. Gary sighed and gently rested the receiver back on the phone._

He looked past the desk and saw a hallway that lined with four mahogany doors, two on each side. At the end of the hallway there was a large double-door. One was opened just a crack and a sliver of light shone through. Gary heard voices. Gary had his back to the wall as he slid silently across it towards the door. When he got closer, he could make out the voices clearly. There were two people talking, both men. 

The first one's voice was high-pitched, nasally and there was an obvious English accent. "Mr. Yunoki, I'm afraid this facility is now a liability. The security of this place has been breached. Both by the escape of the subjects and by the investigator. From his memos one can obviously discern that there are people getting suspicious in high places."

"Their suspicions are only that. Suspicions! They have no hard evidence! They can't expose us if they don't find out!" This voice was probably that of Mr. Yunoki. The man Gary had set out to question. 

"That's obvious Mr. Yunoki. But I'm afraid you've left us in quite a dilemma. If that Peterson fellow hadn't arrived, I'd say perhaps the situation would be salvageable. But now…" The as yet unnamed man let his sentence trail off, and for a few seconds, there was an uncomfortable silence. Yunoki finally broke it.

"Well, what are we going to do?"

"We?" The man's chuckle bordered on a husky giggle. "Oh Mr. Yunoki, I think you realize how much I do not trust you right now. Your services are no longer needed." Gary didn't like the direction the conversation was going. He carefully looked around the doorframe to see what was going on. All he saw was a massive back. The man in front of him was gigantic. He was over seven and a half feet tall. His shoulders were square and four feet wide. He was dressed in a long, black overcoat and steel-toed boots. Black leather gloves covered his hands, and his head was shaved. Gary stared at the man's head. His skin seemed to be gray, as if it was once black but the color had been almost drained from the pigmentation. He was a picture of strength and power, and was obscuring Gary's view of Yunoki._ The Englishman however, was in plain view. He was very small in comparison to the giant, standing no more than five feet tall, with blond, curly hair. He turned away from the out of sight Yunoki and walked to a display hung on the wall._

The display was a suit of samurai armor coupled with a long, slim katana. Even under the dim lamp light from a nearby desk, it gleamed. The Englishman took the sword and made a few playful stokes in the air. Yunoki stepped toward him and came into view. "Please, put my sword back. It's been with my family for over four hundred years. I…"

The Englishman cut him off. "Oh come now Ino. Don't be so childish. Live your last few moments on Earth with dignity." He nodded to the giant and said, "Have you met my friend Thomas?" Yunoki's eyes were wide and began to water. He tried to speak, but only whimpers and squeaks escaped his lips. The Englishman smiled pleasantly. "Say hello Thomas." The giant lunged at Yunoki and grabbed him by his neck with one hand. The Englishman plunged the sword deep into Yunoki's back, the sound of the metal splitting flesh was sickening. The Englishman laughed and said, "Now say goodbye Thomas." The giant put his other hand on Yunoki's forehead and squeezed. It cracked like a bloody egg and the pieces fell on the wooden floor, covered in the gory slop.

"Damn it Thomas, you almost got some on my shoes. Be more careful next time." The Englishman glared the giant, and the giant nodded in comprehension. "Now Thomas, listen to me. I have new orders for you." The giant nodded and stood at rapt attention. "I want you to go to the fourth level and kill everyone on it, okay? Bring the body of the investigator back up to me. I need to know for sure if he's dead." The Englishman pulled out a driver's license. It was Gary's. "Kill him any way you have to." the Englishman took on a concerned expression. "Actually, make sure his head is intact. I want to be sure it's the right man. Well then," he smiled a toothy grin and clapped the giant on the arm. "Off with you now. Have fun!" The giant nodded and began to turn. Gary spun and put his back to the wall. His discovery seemed imminent. Gary holstered the pistol and brought up the air rifle. As he grabbed a dart labeled Tranq-5 and loaded it into the rifle's chamber_, the ground began to shudder and vibrate. Thomas had begun to walk. _

The floorboards creaked as the massive man strode to the door. He pushed it open and the door swung out and in front of Gary. He grabbed the handle and held the door over his body, covering him from the giant's view. Gary held his breath closed his eyes tight. He didn't even trust himself to blink. Gary could feel the giant's overpowering presence. The giant took a few steps, then stopped. The presence was waiting, watching. The giant was scanning the hall, searching for something. 

The footsteps started again and gradually tapered off, and Gary could hear a door open and close in the distance. He got out from behind the door, dashed into the room, and pointed the rifle at the startled Englishman. "Don't speak, put your hands in the air, turn and face me." The Englishman sighed and did as he was told, but his right hand was clenched in a fist. Gary looked to the body of Yunoki than quickly averted his eyes. "D'you realize that I just saw you and your friend commit murder?"

The Englishman smirked. "Do _you realize you are about to die?" He opened his closed fist and revealed a small remote control. It was a tan plastic and had two small buttons and one small, flashing red light. Gary stared at the remote, then, in a single solitary moment, a profound understanding of what had just happened settled on him like a sack full of bricks. _

Gary squeezed the trigger and the dart whistled into the Englishman's chest. The Englishman stared down at his chest in disbelief and promptly fell down in a heap. The sound of his body hitting the ground was joined with the rapid tympani boom of heavy footsteps. Gary swore and groped for his bag. He hastily pulled out another Tranq-5 dart and tried to shove it in the chamber. It slipped out of his hands and bounced on the floor. 

"FUCK!" Gary cursed and snatched the dart from the floor and fumbled it into the chamber. He looked up and saw the giant tearing down the hallway. Gary barely bothered to aim as he shot the dart. It sailed straight and true into the giant's stomach. The giant didn't even stop. He brushed the dart aside and continued his deadly pace. Gary rushed forward and pulled the door shut, locking the deadbolt and sealing the padlock. An instant later, two mighty fists drove two dents into the three-inch thick mahogany door. 

Gary hurriedly loaded one of the Neuro-Z darts into the rifle, And looked for other possible exits. When he looked at the window, he saw a fire escape outside_. Gary could barely make sense of anything with the mind-breaking din coming from the door. Thomas was hammering at the door, the wood splintering and flying to pieces. Gary kicked out the window, shards of glass tinkling and cracking as they plummeted to the earth below. Gary leapt through and planted his feet on the rail staircase. He pulled the latch and a metal grate barring the way down swung open, and Gary threw his rifle over his shoulder. _

The door broke open and chunks of wood soared through the air, one striking Gary in head. He half gasped, half choked, and his mind went swimming. His almost pleasant swimming illusion was shook away when Thomas grabbed him by his neck. The towering goliath pulled him inside the room and tossed him like a rag doll across the room. Gary landed on the desk, sending all items resting upon it on the floor. The giant walked to the unconscious Englishman, knelt down, and placed his enormous hand gently to the Englishman's wrist, feeling for a pulse. He then noticed the dart. He plucked it out, stared at it, and then did something that disturbed Gary a great deal. He growled. It was a low bass rumble that started in the giant's chest then prevailed itself through his throat. 

Gary reached for the rifle, but it was missing. As was his pistol. The giant got up and advanced little by little towards his dizzy prey. Gary looked all around himself until his eyes rested upon the sword still dirtied with Yunoki's blood. Gary grasped the sword in his hand, facing away from he giant and hiding the weapon. Gary waited until the giant was almost upon him, and putting all his strength into his arms, stuck the blade into the monster's face. The point snaked up past his cheek and nestled itself deep within his eye. The giant howled in agony, his fist punching down into Gary's chest. Gary rocketed to the ground, pulling out the sword he still held firmly in his hand. Gary scrambled to his feet, bolts of pain shooting from his chest all throughout his body and stopping in his brain. He scrambled like a wounded calf to the window and tumbled out. 

Thomas cupped one hand over his eye, roared in fury and set himself upon Gary. Gary danced back, grabbing the rail of the staircase with his free hand. The giant hit the stairway, crumpling and snapping it. The stairway's infrastructure creaked and heaved, and with another strike from the giant, began to detach from the side of the building. Gary clung to the rail and held tight as it bent back and twisted down. With wild eyes, Gary watched a piece of metal fall from the stairway and drop down several dizzying stories. Vertigo's effect was gripping Gary, as the ground below seemed to spin and race further away from him. The fall would surely kill him. He pulled his arm that still held the sword up over the rail and looped around the failing metal. Either the giant didn't realize the danger of the crippled stairwell, or didn't care, for without hesitation, he hopped onto the weak carriage. 

Thomas restarted his relentless pursuit of Gary's demise, ripping the railing apart with his bare hands. The staircase gave one last sigh and swung down in an arch that crashed against the lower level of the building like some terrible slinky. The window on the side of the building that the railing collided with was destroyed, and Gary was sent rolling through, landing on his shoulder. The rest of the staircase wrenched free of the building, and floor-by-floor, toppled to the unyielding earth with the giant still on it. Seconds later, a loud crash trailed up through the window, and Gary could still hear the giant's call.


	5. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

CHAPTER V

Gary coughed and spat. There was a red hue mixed in his saliva, and his mouth tasted coppery. His body ached, and where it didn't ache, it yelled with pain, and where it didn't yell, it screamed bloody murder. An unforgiving headache was racking his brain, rippling lightning inside his skull. It hurt to breathe. He put his hand to his right breast and whimpered when it roused yet another pang of suffering. A slightly familiar voice spoke to him.

"What in God's name are you doing here!?"

"I'm dying a very painful death right now if you don't mind." Gary muttered angrily to the voice. "I really, _really_ don't need you to bug me as I do it." The voice didn't reply, although at Gary's dismay, a second voice chimed in. It was a woman's voice.

"Are you hurt?"

"Are you stupid?" Gary forced himself to lift his head up and look at the peanut gallery. It was Smith and the woman to whom he had spoken to earlier. Gary withstood the pain caused in looking down again. At least he didn't have to look at them now. "Ah Christ. This is just what I need." Gary groaned and rolled over onto his back. He kept his eyes closed and growled out, "You guys are close to the last people I want to see right now. You guys just barely got beaten by that English prick and his colossus friend on my list of people I hate. Congratulations, second place is very admirable." The woman ignored Gary's barbs and helped him to his knees. 

"What happened out there? How did you…?" She wasn't sure how to finish the question. 

"Well, I was in a real hurry to get down," Gary cast fleeting look out the gaping window. "I guess he was too." He squinted at the woman and Smith, blinking as though he was testing his vision. "What's your story? Why aren't you guys dead or trying to kill me or something?"

Smith stared, but not at Gary. His eyes were fixated on the sword that Gary still clutched. Smith stammered, "That's, that's Mr. Yunoki's sword. He… is dead. Isn't he?"

Gary looked at the bloodstained sword and wiped it on the carpet. "Uh, yeah. My condolences. The huge guy popped his head like bubble wrap."

The woman gasped, and Smith shook his head angrily. Gary suddenly felt a little a pang of guilt for being so abrupt. Yunoki was probably more than their colleague. He was probably their friend. 

"I'm sorry," Gary murmured, "He was murdered by those two." 

Smith took off his glasses and massaged his eyes. "This was not supposed to happen. This is a disaster. If we don't die here, we'll be arrested and locked up forever. That damned contract. I wish I had never—", he trailed off and walked away, plopping down in a chair behind a desk. 

Gary suddenly noticed his surroundings. He was in a large room that appeared to be some sort of control room. There were metal desks with video monitors imbedded in their panels. It was a surveillance station. The room was also furnished with several lockers and glass windowed cabinets. Inside the cabinets he could see rifles, pistols, and other assorted weaponry. A few doors were lined against the doors, although Gary wasn't sure whether they were exits or broom closets. At the far end of the room, there was a large metal door. Above the door were large, red printed block letters reading CENTRAL SECURITY STATION.

Using his hands to support himself, Gary pushed his way up to his feet. He remained doubled over, resting his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths. He looked inquiringly to Smith. "Is there anyone else here besides you two, Smith?" He shuffled to a nearby chair and sat in it.

Smith frowned. "Smith? Oh." His cheeks flushed. "My real name is Carlisle. Nester Carlisle." He offered his hand to Gary, but Gary made no move to take it. Nester coughed and put his hand in his lab coat pocket. "As for other survivors, the only people I know are alive is myself, Madeline Delmoine here, Kyle Gerhard the head of security, and the girl Kelly, um, something that, er, who is his assistant."

"Farbes." Madeline said waveringly. The tremble in her voice was small but apparent. "It's Kelly Farbes. They're next door, in the supply room. They'll be back soon." She looked to the window, and shuddered. "What was that thing?" She was scared. Her hands were shaking. Noticing her own trembling, she put her hands together, trying to mask her apprehension. 

Gary sighed. "As far as I know, he was the biggest thug I've ever seen, strong as Hell. Thank God he's dead." 

At this, Madeline looked at Nester, an unspoken understanding between the two. Nester's eyes widened and he was about to say something but was interrupted by the sound of an electronic lock beeping and a door opening. A short girl of about twenty hurried in wearing a khaki uniform that was apparently worn by all security in the facility. Following her was a bearded man of about forty similarly dressed except for khaki shorts instead of pants. He looked to be in peak physical condition. His arms and leg were toned and tanned, and his skin taught over his muscles. His eyes were ice blue and ice-cool. 

Throughout Gary's career, he had always believed the eyes were a tinted window into someone's character. If you could look at the window at the right angle, you could see almost everything inside. 

The man surveyed the room, Gary, the shattered window, and the mess of glass and metal. The girl's attention remained on the battered Gary. Her gasp of surprise and wide eyes revealed a soul of innocence and caring.

She spoke softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, "What… happened?"

Nester stepped forward. "This is Gary Peterson, the detective hired to investigate the facility. He, ah, he fell in through the window." By the look of the bearded man's face, the explanation that Nester provided was not satisfactory. Nester explained further. "He was fighting with that giant, and in the process of, ah, fighting… he crashed through the window. I believe that under the current situation, he is willing to help us."

"He's hurt." The girl said concernedly. She spoke to Gary, "We've got to take care of you. There's a small infirmary next to the security office. The main one is on the ground level. But we can't get to it right now."

The man in the shorts started talking. He had a light French accent. "Alright, let's get him in the infirmary." He motioned to Madeline. "Delmoine, you help me with him. Carlisle, stay here with Farbes. If anything happens, call me on the radio."

Gary jumped in. "Hey! Wait a minute. I'm just fine right now. What I think should be happening is all of you telling me what's going on here. Who was that British guy and his pet Goliath, just what the hell are you testing here, and why oh why are there dead people wandering around and, as far as I know, eating the flesh of other people? 

"Something has obviously gone awry here, and people are dead, dying, or something else. Someone here is responsible and I want to know who!" By the end of his speech, Gary was breathing heavily and coughing. He hacked and sputtered, swearing as a small mixture of phlegm and clotted blood spewed from his lungs. 

"That's all right, you just need to get tended to." The girl was sympathetic and kind in her tone. Gary could sense her cooperative nature. 

"Thanks all the same, but right now I have no reason to trust any of you." He glared accusingly at Nester and Madeline. "Just a little while ago, I wasn't sure whether or not you would be holding me hostage here, letting me go, or killing me. And as for you," he faced the newcomers. "I barely have the vaguest idea of who you are, and therefore harbor _you_ no good will. Up to this point, I can only assume that you are all in some way involved in a conspiracy to practice and hide illegal testing of some kind." 

Gary looked amongst the people he had just accused. They all were reacting differently to Gary's statement. Nester was beginning to sweat, and he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his brow with it. Madeline was drawn and upset. She looked regretful as she fiddled with a wedding band on her left ring finger. Both she and Nester avoided eye contact with Gary. The girl Kelly was fearful, yet she didn't appear to be remorseful at all. She probably didn't realize the full extent of the situation. Her gaze flitted from one person to another. She was one of the two not afraid to look Gary in the eyes. The other was the head of security, Kyle Gerhard. He revealed nothing but an intimidating determination. Gary couldn't put his finger on what it was that he felt from Gerhard's piercing gaze, but whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.

Kyle was in his element during the crisis, and his power of authority and experience made him a leader, a leader that would be difficult to undermine. Kyle puffed out his chest and announced in a tone of finality, "It seems that we have another member of our party. There has been an accident, and many people have died. But right now, if you don't do what I say, we are all going to die. The main goal is to get out of this place. You seem strong enough to help us, but you're injured. Before we plan to do anything else however, you have to get bandaged. You're no good to us limping."

Gary took a deep breath, winced in pain, his ribs reminding him of his skirmish with the giant. He then cursed himself for showing his weakness. "Why don't we call someone?"

Kyle shook his head. "The phone lines are down. It's the work of the Englishman. He arrived shortly after the accident, and his presence made Mr. Yunoki very upset. He arrived under the pretense of being an… an emergency specialist." He frowned. " I'm the head of security here, and _I never even learned his name."_

"He came with that huge man in a helicopter. I bet he's from Umbrella." Kelly tried to be helpful. "I don't think the corporation is going to help u—,"

Nester coughed, interrupting Kelly. "Er, Gerhard, Mr. Yunoki is dead. Mr. Peterson saw the large man kill him. The giant fell from the window too, he wasn't as lucky as Mr. Peterson"

"Oh _no!" Kelly began to tremble. "Oh no, no, no!" Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. "How could they kill him? They couldn't have!"_

Gary scoffed. "Yeah, I'll bet." Kelly jerked her head up and glared wrathfully into Gary's eyes. This unnerved Gary a great deal until he finally murmured, "Sorry." Gary focused his attention on Kyle. "I don't suppose anyone here has heard of a cell phone?"

Kyle shook his head again. "There's a radio wave jammer located on the fourth floor. It was installed to make sure no unauthorized calls were made. Security is paramount here." The pride in his voice was dreadfully blatant. "That's why I was hired to run it all."

Before Gary could respond to that, Madeline let out a frightened scream. They all jumped and looked to her. She was pointing to a video screen and shaking. "It…It's _him! He's alive!" They rushed to the screen that showed an image of the outside of the building. The picture moved as the camera pivoted on its mechanical patrol. A heap of metal wreckage pulsated and heaved. An immense hunk of the metal rose from the ground and flew away. From where the wreckage had been, the giant stood up and let out a triumphant roar. A torn coat and several open wounds were evidence of his supposedly fatal fall. It looked up in the air, then at the camera. The camera swiveled and began to look the other way. Its gaze fell upon the entrance to the underground parking lot, and then suddenly popped to static. They all stood agape, staring at the unbelievable image._

Gary shook his head. "Impossible. He couldn't have lived. His back should be jelly. His bones would have to be made out of…" 

Kyle soundlessly sat down in front of the screen. He rolled out a keyboard from underneath the desk. He typed a few keys and another image came up. It was of a dark, vast expansive room, all in cement. Parked cars were liberally spaced around. It was the parking garage. The item of most notice was an eighteen-wheeler big rig truck sitting as if it cared nothing for the cars it had rammed out of the way. Its back doors were open. Kyle typed more keys, and a new camera angle came up that showed a clear view of the opened trailer. Kyle zoomed in. Inside the trailer were roughly a dozen circular capsules made of metal about five feet in width and five feet tall. As Kyle zoomed in closer, one could see clearly marked labels reading: _H-BETA. All the capsules were open and a translucent gel was dripping from the container._

As the camera began to swing to the side, Kyle zoomed out to the original magnification. The giant had reached the camera that they had been looking through just seconds before. He reached out and plucked it from the wall like an apple from a tree, then flung it away. He looked towards the screen, and then began his approach. He finally arrived at the camera and reached out with his implacable hand. The image fizzled and popped to static.

Kyle murmured, "There's one more on this floor."

The screen blinked to a new angle just in time to see the giant rear back his arm and throw the ripped off camera towards the screen. The screen shuddered and crackled for a moment, then popped to static.

Gary glowered at Kyle. "Head of Security, huh? You did a bang up job Mr. Gerhard. Kudos to you." Gary was thick on the sarcasm. Kelly scowled at Gary even more savagely than before. All Kyle did was arch an eyebrow.

"You are to blame for all this Mr. Peterson. The initial incident with the escape was bad, but correctable. You're presence made everything infinitely more volatile." Kyle's voice was dripping with acid. "I could have handled it, but you frightened those in charge. Now they're out for our heads. If we die, the blood's on your hands."

Gary's face was reproachful, enraged. All signs of possible friendliness and compassion flooded away from his visage leaving reddened skin in its wake. "You pompous shit! You're saying it's my fault? I came here to find the truth, the truth about some despicable experiments that are being inflicted upon innocent people. You're killing people and blame me for spoiling your fun? I want to get out of here alive just so I can slap you and your people in front of a judge!"

Kyle lost his cool demeanor. He was now just as covered in malice's tenebrous grip as Gary was."Don't preach to me. I know the only reason you're here is for money, and don't attempt to tell us otherwise. I am doing exactly what you're doing; working for the almighty dollar! At least I'm not so self-righteous I can't see it!"

Gary was poised to launch another cutting remark, but suddenly all of his strength left his body. His sense of awareness seemed to float and pull its way out of his mind. It broke free of a Gary's hold, and the essence of thought flew away lazily as Gary's limp body crumpled to the ground noisily.


	6. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

Chapter VI

Gary lay unconscious on the bed. He would lie there for at least another hour or two. He seemed quite peaceful in his slumber, almost serene. Very different earlier display of vulgarity and rudeness. He showed more contempt than pity for the death of Mr. Yunoki and everyone else in the facility. It figured though. He hadn't spent six months with the people of the complex. It might have seemed like a short time in comparison to the rest of her life, but those six months were probably the most exciting she had ever spent. It wasn't as if she had done much before that, not by a long shot. She had grown up sheltered from most of life's realties. Her parents had tried to keep her innocent as long as possible. 

Kelly's father was well beyond wealthy, and her mother was the perfect debutante. Both were conservative, but compared to the parents of some of friends, they were sometimes lax. Her father, realizing she would have to grow up someday, had set up the internship at the facility. She was there mainly to experience the whole of enterprising. She would spend some time with the scientists, some with the data engineers, computer technicians, and even security experts. 

She knew the training in hands of Mr. Gerhard was simply supposed to be just another perspective to see business through, but she wanted to stay there. She didn't have any love for the profession, but Kyle Gerhard was something different entirely. At first, she tried to write off her feelings as meaningless, merely a simple crush that would fade. However the infatuation grew into full-blown adoration. She was completely, and wholeheartedly in love with Gerhard. 

He was strong, intelligent, and confident, yet he could be sensitive as well. She had seen a side to him that apparently no one else could see. When they were alone, she felt a desire for him that both ached and felt delightful. What drove her even further was that she could swear he felt the same way. It was almost an aura. He was everything she imagined love could be. Every spare second she could, she would spend it with Kyle.

When the detective had insulted him, questioned his flawless judgment, Kelly snapped. Violence was not like her at all. She was nurturing, not aggressive. Her instinctual attack on Gary had surprised her more than it did the others. She had taken one of her tranquilizer darts that she had handy and pumped in over half of the liquid into Gary's arm. At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. He had no right to yell at Gerhard. Like Kyle had said, the death of Mr. Yunoki and so many other co-workers was the detective's fault. 

Her thoughts returned to their dilemma. The thought of the infections frightened her. According to Nester, one of the vaccines that the scientists were testing had mutated and escaped containment. She didn't know what the vaccine was, but the accident was just that. An accident. The accusations that the detective made had to be wrong. She knew these people and trusted them with her life. Her forehead crinkled and her pearl-white teeth were bared. The detective. Because of his presence, the Umbrella Corporation had sent some madman to cover up the mistake. It was horrible. So many people had died, and the Englishman would still be trying to get five more. The thought of dieing was too sickening to ponder. 

The infirmary door opened and Nester walked in. "How is he?"

"He's fine. I bandaged his chest and sutured his arm. He has five bruised ribs and a slight concussion. His right arm was lacerated below the armpit and above the forearm." She was hesitant. "I don't think he'll help us."

Nester took off his glasses and rubbed them with his glasses. "He'll have to. We need all the help we can get if we're going to get out of this place alive. We're going to have to move him into the other room. Gerhard has an idea but we won't be able to watch the detective in the infirmary."

Kelly beamed. "I knew Kyle would come up with something."

Nester stared knowingly at Kelly. "Yes. Well, let's get to it."

The detective's body was heavy, and Kelly almost lost her grip as she and Nester hoisted the body onto a gurney. They opened the hallway door and quickly wheeled their way down towards the large security door. The door to the stairwell had been barricaded, another testament to Kyle's competence. This hallway was entirely stainless of the blood that littered the rest of the halls. As soon as Kyle knew that escape was impossible with the Englishman around, he set himself and Nester to making the barricade. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the people who were trapped outside. Kyle told her that he had tried to convince them to stay, but they wouldn't listen. They tried to escape through the horde of the creatures. They didn't, couldn't get through. 

Kelly hated them for dieing. It was their fault that they were killed. In times of crises, those with experience must be trusted. To go against the advice of such people would be suicide. They had signed their own death warrants. 

Nester pounded on the door and yelled, "Gerhard! It's us!"

Madeline opened the door and let them in. Her eyes lingered on the cataleptic Gary. She sighed long and hopelessly. "I just hope I don't die today."

Nester put his hand on Madeline's shoulder. "Don't worry Madeline, with Gerhard's help, we'll be out of this soon."

Madeline flinched at Nester's touch and warily removed his hand. "I'm okay Nester, I… I'll be alright." 

Kelly looked at Kyle. He was looking so unbelievably heroic she could barely keep from crying. He was dressed for war. Upon his head, a headpiece was being turned on and connected to a two-way radio resting in a holster on his belt. Also on the belt was a large handgun and several magazines of bullets. Wrapped around his chest was a double bandoleer. He turned around. Each of the straps held a handgun, two magazines, and a hand-grenade. He held in his hands a massive shotgun. It was black-lacquered steel and three and a half feet long. He was pressing in red-colored shells, and when the gun had been fully loaded, he put the ammunition box and another unopened one in large pockets that were fitted on his large cargo pants. On a hip holster, a sizeable air pistol was waiting with a dart of Neuro-Z already chambered. Kyle had never appeared so fierce and untouchable. 

"Jesus Christ Kyle!" Nester's eyes were wide. "Where in God's name did you get all that?"

Kyle smiled. "My personal locker. 'Soyez Preparé', or 'Be prepared.' The motto of the Boy Scouts speaks of good sense. Some of these do not exactly adhere to the facility's or your country's policy but…" He left it hanging.

"I'm almost afraid to ask. What _do you have?" Nester looked at the armament nervously. _

"Ah, mon Dieu. It's a SPAS-12 .10-gauge shotgun. It can be set to semi-automatic and pump. It carries eleven rounds and one in the chamber. Designed for military use only, mais, I have good connections. I'm using double-ought buckshot rounds, it is like spraying eight separate 9mm bullets, but," he smiled and pulled out a yellow shell from his pocket. "This little fellow is a lead slug. The sheer force of this can deliver up to seventeen thousand pounds of pressure per square inch." He chuckled as he put it back in his pocket. "I think I'll be more than ready for our large friend."

Kelly was mortified. "You're going to try to _kill him? That's murder!" Her eyes were pleading, "Kyle, shooting those… those people that died, that had changed was one thing… but this is…"_

Kyle stepped towards her. "Don't be foolish Kelly. This is an emergency. There are at least two men out there that want us dead, and I won't let that happen. We have no idea how many of those infected people are out there, and we can't let ourselves be taken. I'm getting out of here alive and I intend on the rest of you doing so as well."

Nester sat down in a chair and started cleaning his glasses again. He waved limply to Kyle. "Well Gerhard, you are the expert on this, so I'll let you do whatever you deem necessary."

Madeline was somber. Her posture was resigned and eerily calm. "Just what is your plan Gerhard?"

"What we need to do is get out of here. Now we have two options to do that. We could try to get to the jammer and shut it off. Then all we need to do is use our radio to call for help. The other is trying to make it to the parking garage and get one of the Jeeps. I believe turning off the jammer is safer. The only people that have the key is… was… Mr. Yunoki and me." His eyes darkened. "As soon as the Englishman arrived my key was… relinquished to him. I'm guessing that the body of Mr. Yunoki is upstairs on the executive floor. Perhaps the Englishman is there too. If he is, perhaps we can use him as a bargaining chip against the large man downstairs." He reached behind the desk and brought up another weapon. It was a shotgun too, but not as fearsome as the SPAS. It had a wooden pump and its metal had a silver shine. He tossed it to the alarmed Nester, who just barely caught it. Kyle resumed his briefing. "That's a Bennelli .10-gauge. It can also be set to semi-auto. It holds six rounds and one in the chamber. It's already been loaded and set on safety. Just move that little switch on the grip from safety to auto and pull the trigger until whatever it is that's bothering you stops moving."

Nester held the gun like it was a dead fish and looked dumbly at it. He raised his eyes to meet Kyle and said, "Alright, um, why do I have it?" 

"Because you're coming with me to the jammer. It's not safe to go alone and the least you can do is provide some cover." Kyle motioned to a backpack on a desk. "Put on that pack over there. We may need it."

Nester put the gun down, picked up the pack and put his arms through the straps. He grunted as he pulled it on his back. "It's heavy. What's in it?"

Kyle's face was placid. "Explosives."

Nester froze in place. His eyes were wild and he took a deep gulp. His Adam's apple bobbed and quavered in his uncertain gullet. "Is that," He licked his lips. "Is that really necessary?" 

Kyle was a paragon of stability. "It might be." He turned towards Kelly and Madeline. "While Nester and I head to the garage, I want you two to monitor the video feeds around us and warn us if anything is coming." He took a step towards Kelly, and she froze like a deer mesmerized by headlights. "Kelly, ma petite, I need you to help me. Can I count on you?"

She answered breathlessly, "Yes."

Kyle adjusted his radio. "We'll be on channel two. We have to remain in constant radio contact." He stared intently to the still unconscious Gary. "When he regains consciousness, you'd better give him some more tranquilizers. Right now, we can't be sure if he'll help us or not." He gave Madeline and Kelly one last look. "Time is of the essence. Goodbye for now." And with that, he and Nester went to the door, unlocked it, and exited. The click of the door automatically locking itself seemed to echo throughout the otherwise silent room.


	7. Default Chapter Title

_Copyright 2000 by Tom Lazur_

_ _

_Disclaimer:_

_The Resident Evil trademark is property of Capcom and whoever legally involved, as are the Hunter and T-01 characters. The characters Gary Peterson, Kyle Gerhard, The Englishman, Madeline, Nester, Hollace, Carl, and Kelly however are my own creation and should not be used without my consent. _

Dirtied Hands, Tortured Souls

by Tom Lazur

CHAPTER VII

The door slid shut behind the two. Kyle Gerhard stood stoically and assessed the empty hallway. It was clean and clear. Just how he liked it. The only sign of the danger that existed was the barricade at the stairwell door. Gerhard remembered locking the door and welding it shut. He also took several heavy cabinets and, with the help of the others, stood them in front of the door. The chance of the zombies breaking through was virtually nil. The giant, on the other hand, was a totally different matter.

Gerhard didn't know how strong it was, but if it survived a six-story fall, they're makeshift barricade would very likely be no more than an inconvenience. It was only a matter of time before the giant would find his way to the fifth floor. Gerhard craned his neck to the side and popped his neck. They had to get out as soon as possible. Gerhard flipped on his closed-circuit radio and spoke through the headset. "Kelly? Kelly can you hear me? Over."

Kelly's voice came through, albeit accompanied by the scratchy distortion unique to radio communication. "I'm here Kyle."

Gerhard motioned Nester to follow him and began walking up the hallway, away from the barricaded stairwell.He continued talking on the headset. "Kelly, we need to hurry. Nester and I are on our way to the service elevator at the back of this hallway. I want you to watch us through the security video feed. Over."

Kelly's voice rang through again, "I copy." There was a moment's pause. "I have you two on screen. Over."

"Bonne damme, I want you to be an extra set of eyes for us. Keep the screens trained on where we are, where we're going, and where we've been. Have Madeline try to find where that giant is. I don't want the freak sneaking up on us. One last thing, contact me as soon as the investigator wakes up. Over."

"Roger Kyle. Over."

Gerhard and Nester jogged through the hallway. In the not too far distance, the echo of baleful moans could be heard. Nester looked behind them. He spoke to Gerhard in a stammering voice, "I hope that barricade holds its own." Gerhard didn't respond to Nester's comment. After realizing he wouldn't get a response, Nester decided to keep quiet. The two turned a corner and kept on jogging. Bit by bit, Nester fell behind Gerhard. Nester sucked in a huge breath and doubled his efforts. He was pretty sure that he wasn't _that old. At last, they were at the service elevator. Nester was a little winded, but Gerhard was just as cool as before. Gerhard spoke into his headset, "Kelly, we're at the elevator. Over."_

Gerhard pressed the call button, and a light at the top of the elevator turned on. The light traveled on a plastic display of the facility's floors. There were six above ground stories and the garage was one below ground level. The bright yellow blinked from the second floor to the fifth, one at a time. After the elevator reached its destination, the doors opened and four pairs of blue-gray arms jumped out from the elevator car. Their respective infected bodies lunged for the two men. Nester cried out in alarm and fell back on the ground. Gerhard leveled his SPAS shotgun on the nearest zombie's center mass and let rip a single round. The flesh of the zombie tore and flew away from the shell's impact point. A wretched hole was the dour evidence of the gun's power. The zombie collapsed, its spinal cord destroyed. Gerhard let off three more bursts from his SPAS and three more bodies filled the elevator car. Surprisingly, very little splatter had landed on Gerhard. He coolly wiped off the larger bits of gore with a handkerchief. Nester had brought himself to his feet, blinking furiously and adjusting his glasses. Gerhard regarded him casually and began loading fresh shells into his firearm. 

"JEE-ZUS!" Nester was shaking. "They were waiting for us! How'd they get in?"

Gerhard pointed to the floor of the elevator car. "There, on the floor you can see another body. This is not one of them though. His skin has not paled and most of his body has been devoured." Gerhard bent down and examined the badly chewed faces of the dead men. "Someone was trying to get away from the creatures by using the elevator. He was too slow." Gerhard frowned. His eyes lingered on the white robes of the dead zombies. Nester, the four I dispatched were from below and this slow man…" Gerhard shook his head." I can not tell who he is. I suppose there is no matter." He activated his microphone. "Kelly, did you see that? Over."

Kelly replied, "I saw it Kyle, you were wonderful!"

Gerhard blinked and a moment of awkward silence passed. "…Merci, thank you Kelly. From now on, I need you to make sure you see what's _ahead of us. Go ahead and look around the third floor. That's where the jamming station is. Over."_

"I copy."

Gerhard regarded Nester. "Ready Carlisle?"

Nester nodded in assent and they stepped inside the elevator car.

Gary slowly groped for cognizance. His surroundings seemed to get up, dust themselves off, and get back into their rightful places. Gary's auditory nerves clicked on soon after his optical ones, and soon enough, he was able to feel his hands and feet. As soon as he was sure he could taste the inside of his mouth he tried to sit up. No success there. This was not his best day. He rallied himself and gave sitting up another go. This time, he was able to force his head up, and the momentum carried the rest of him up. He spoke, "Is this the second time today? God… Damn. I am not doing so well." He rubbed his forehead and took in the room.

Madeline snapped her head around to stare at Gary. He had woken up already. Gerhard had miscalculated how long he would be out. Madeline grated her teeth and tried to decide what to do next. Kelly was just as surprised and was an unlikely candidate for a quick plan. Then and there, Madeline decided to make herself on the best of terms possible with Gary. One way or another, she would need his help. She approached him, put her soft hand on his back and offered him a bottle of water. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

Gary graciously accepted the bottle, but before he drank it, he stopped and eyed her suspiciously. "Wait…No." His eyes darted from Madeline to Kelly. "What happened? Why did I konk out? And where are the other two?" He blinked impatiently and when no one answered, he snapped, "Well?"

Madeline never took her eyes off Gary's, and her voice was steady. "You suffered an after effect of the tranquilizer you were shot with earlier." Kelly blushed beet-red.

Gary still retained an air of doubt. "Oh. Well, where're Gerhard and Nester?"

Madeline pointed to the door. "They left only a little while ago. They're trying to reach the third-floor jammer and primary communications console." She frowned. "You shouldn't be awake."

Gary raised his eyebrow. "Oh, I'm not am I? Why is that?"

Madeline realized her mistake. It was a foolish slip of the tongue. "Well… We thought that… I mean… We expected that you'd be out longer… That's what we concluded after… examining you." 

"You guys doped me up again, didn't you?" Gary was in full disbelief and stuck in fury. "GOD, DAMN IT!" As quickly as he could, he stumbled to his feet. His effort rolled the gurney out from underneath him, and he almost fell. He caught himself and started shouting again. "What the _hell_ is wrong with you people? You're killing people, raising 'em from the dead, and pumping me so full of drugs, I feel like I'm in high school again! I can't wait for the devil to get his due on you people… Fuck you guys… just…" Gary shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, not even bothering to finish.

Madeline didn't say a word in her defense. She didn't avert her eyes either. Her eyes were watering though. She was near crying. Gary began to feel the first pangs of guilt. He hated that. "Ah Jesus. I'm sor—… No! I'm not sorry!" Gary lifted an accusing finger. "It's your fault that all this has happened!"

Madeline turned and walked away and Kelly stood up. Kelly dealt him a look that had daggers in it. "Leave her alone. It's not as if she wanted all this to happen."

"Oh, like she and her colleagues…" he stopped, sated with frustration, "look, we are not going to get out of this if we keep arguing. Okay?" Gary closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ignoring the ache from his ribs. "What we need to do is get out of here."

Kelly smirked in a superior manner. "Kyle told you that already. You weren't listening. He already has the situation under control. He and Mr. Carlisle are on their way to the jammer, and after he shuts it off, he'll contact a friend that can arrange a helicopter to get us. He's already saved us. No thanks to you."

"What's he doing to make his plan work? Where is he right now?" 

Madeline spoke up, her composure regained. "They're on their way to the third floor. They retrieved Mr. Yunoki's clearance card from upstairs. After they get down stairs to the jamming device, it'll only be a short time before we all go to the roof and wait."

"Fine then," Gary said, "In the mean time, just as a precaution…" He walked to the cabinets holding the weapons and inspected them. 

"Hey!" Madeline protested. "Those belong to the company!" 

Gary gave her a tired look and wandered inside a side room. Madeline was about to follow them when Kelly called out to her. "Maddy, I need your help with the monitors." Madeline gave one last glance towards the side room and hurried over to Kelly. 

Gary nonchalantly looked over the room. It was small and all four walls were lined with lockers. Two were opened, but empty. Upon closer inspection, the name K. Gerhard Director of Security was labeled on the locker doors. Gary's incisive sense told him that something worthwhile was inside the lockers. Gary left the side room and reentered the main room. He noticed another door; it was marked supplies. Gary opened the door and walked in.

Madeline looked up from her video screen just in time to see Gary traverse the room with a heavy crowbar in his hands. Madeline, her eyes as large as dinner plates, hopped to her feet and screamed at the top of her lungs, "HEY! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Madeline stampeded towards Gary in an attempt to stop him, but he had already entered the side room and slammed the door shut, locking it. She pounded on the door with her fists and screamed at the top of her lungs. "DON'T YOU DARE DO WHAT I THINK YOU'RE GOING TO DO!" 

He dared. Madeline stopped her protest when she heard metal twisting and locks popping. "Fine! You'll be in a lot of trouble, buster!"

"Holy shit!" Gary's exclamation filtered through the door. "You couldn't trouble me with a cattle prod. These are some fine pieces of 'quip in here!"

Madeline gave it one last try. "They're not yours!"

The only reply she got was sarcastic laughter. She fumed and her cheeks rouged. She stomped back to the workstation and plopped back down in her seat, contemptuously, muttering, "Jack-off."

"There's one waiting by the elevator door. He looks like he's about ten feet away. Over." 

"I copy Kelly." Gerhard already had his SPAS up and aimed when the elevator doors opened. The mellow playing of easy-listening Muzac made the gruesome corpse seven feet in front of him surreal. The zombie was pitifully obese. The mustard and relish stains on its khaki security shirt were an odd combination with the blood and puss. It gurgled and choked as it shambled towards Gerhard. Gerhard pointed his SPAS at the zombie's forehead and fired once. The head separated from the neck and broke into small, slushy chunks that rolled and splashed on the floor. Freshly disassociated with the head, the body dropped to the floor and twitched. The walls of the hallway had a new layer of bleeding paint. Other than that, it was uniform to the other hallways.

Gerhard stepped out totally at ease with the situation. He kicked away a few of the larger chunks and motioned Nester to follow. Nester had slung his own shotgun over his shoulder, not trusting his proficiency. He cautiously followed Gerhard. 

"Christ Kyle, how can you do that? You just blew his head off!"

Gerhard shrugged. "I did what I had to do." 

"He let me have some of his M&Ms once." Nester muttered. 

Gerhard either didn't hear him or ignored him. He pushed a button on his radio and contacted Kelly. "Carlisle and I are in the secondary hallway. Shutting off the jammer should not take too long. Just warn us if anything is coming. One more thing…"

Nester interrupted him. "Gerhard, look!" At the opposite end of the hallway, something peculiar caught Nester's attention. He whispered harshly to Gerhard, "Look over there! More of them!"

Gerhard twitched, then relaxed. "No, they're down. Perhaps they were killed by security," Gerhard frowned and coughed, "before the rest killed security." Gerhard spent another moment glimpsing at the bodies. His face became quizzical. "Wait, something's wrong." He half-jogged over to the bodies for a closer look.

The bodies were definitely infected. There were two bodies, one a male scientist with a lab coat on, and the other a Hispanic cleaning woman. Both of them had the telltale blue-gray pigmentation in their skin and sporadic wounds inflicted by teeth. But one feature on their corpses stood out like a sore thumb and was particularly strange; they were both headless. Both had neat cuts at their necks that seemed to have been executed with surgical precision. The respective heads were nearby. Their eyes were glazed over and colorless, but were even deader than a zombie's. Gerhard observed the still spreading puddles of blood. Judging by the speed of the spread, there was a large quantity of blood gushing so the cuts were fairly fresh. There were no footprints by the puddles, so who or whatever committed the deed probably did not stick around. He scanned the hallway for anything else suspicious. The blatant obviousness of the situation fell on Gerhard like a sack of doorknobs. Merde… Maman _foutre_!" he swore in French. He announced ominously, "The ventilation duct is open."

"What?" Nester was next to Gerhard, his eyes squinting at the opened duct above them. Nester was more nervous than before, slightly shaking, "What does that mean? I'm guessing something not good"

"It could be, and probably is very bad indeed." Gerhard keyed his mike. "Kelly, scout the jamming room and all other rooms on this floor. Over."

Kelly replied promptly, "Alright Kyle. Over." While Gerhard waited, he inspected the ventilation duct that hung above his head. A thick, viscous gel was dripping down off the opened hatch. Kelly's voice rang in. "Kyle! Something's moving in the jamming room! I just saw a flicker of it! I'll… wait a minute; the feed went dead. The camera's not working."

Gerhard sighed. Nester became more and more agitated, "What's that mean? Gerhard, what's wrong with the camera?"Gerhard hunched his shoulders than relaxed them. 

"Carlisle," he said to Nester with confidence, "It'll be all right. We came this far, the rest should be simple. Allons-y. Let's go."

Nester just swallowed deeply.

Gary stepped out the door and struck his most heroic pose. "I take a lickin and keep on tickin," he said more for his benefit than the others around him. He began to strut in front of Madeline and Kelly, his whole body getting into his speech. "I have myself a double-knit Mylar vest, shin, arm, and shoulder pads. On my shoulder rests a fully automatic MP5 with one hundred and twenty-eight rounds of hard-point ammunition to back it up." He continued with a cocky grin on his face. "At my side is a Desert Eagle fifty-caliber automatic with an overall length, barrel to end, of ten inches. Five fully loaded clips of eight bullets each accompany it. I'd be lying if I said this wasn't heavy. I am so fully armed that if I had belt loops on this get-up I'd stick my thumbs through them and talk in a southern drawl." Gary flashed an even toothier smile and observed the faces of his audience. He was very disappointed. The two women paid Gary no heed. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to repeat that."

Both Madeline and Kelly were working furtively at the video monitors. They were quickly toggling from picture to picture, searching for something. On one of the monitors, he saw Gerhard and Nester standing in front of a door. Gary leaned forward. "Where are they?" 

Kelly gave him an aggravated look. "While you were busy playing dress-up, they were making their way to the jamming room. They're about to go in, but… something else is in there."

Gary was suddenly serious. "Thomas?"

Madeline shook her head. "No. We haven't seen _him_ since the garage cameras went out. We don't know where he is.There's something else in that room."

"Maybe I should go down there."

"Kyle said that we should all stay put. We're just supposed to wait for him up here."

Gary didn't weigh too much on what Kyle said. The minute things turned bad down there, he would go. Until then, all he would do was watch.

Gerhard opened the door a crack then looked over his shoulder to Nester. Nester nodded once and Gerhard kicked the door open. It swung back and clattered against the wall. Gerhard stepped back and swept the SPAS back and forth, looking for any threat inside the room. Unfortunately, the room was pitch black and he couldn't see ten feet into the room. Gerhard slowly advanced upon the door. Upon reaching it, he took one hand off the SPAS and reached for the light switch. It flicked on and the ensuing light flooded the room. After a few moments, Gerhard's eyes had adjusted. Everything looked in order. At least two tons of machinery and electric equipment was in the room. The seven-foot tall machines divided the room into three rows, making it impossible to see the whole room at once. All still operational, the machines hummed and beeped.Keeping low, Gerhard inched across the first row. He cautiously turned the corner: Nothing. 

He slowly weaved through the rows, looking for whatever had cut the video feed. He found nothing. Gerhard would have been far less troubled if he had discovered an enemy. Instead, he was left with emptiness, and his inability to find what was responsible filled him with what strongly resembled dread. Gerhard gave the room one last examination and hurried over to the jammer, the largest piece of machinery in the room. The jammer had one, complicated interface.

Gerhard slung his SPAS over his shoulder and started pressing buttons. "This should only take a moment."

Nester was puzzled. "Can't we just pull a cord, or throw a switch?"

"No. It has an independent power source. It has a grand amount of fail safes that make sure it isn't sabotaged. I'll put in Yunoki's clearance and we'll be on our way."

"Then what?" 

"After we bypass the security protocols, the jammer will shut off, and the communications equipment will become operational. Vraiment simple. After that, I'll call my friend in Albany who can arrange a helicopter to come and pick us up. We'll all go to the roof and wait for him there."

At the sound of a low growl, Gerhard brought his attention away from his work. Nester was looking at something to his left. Whatever it was, it was obscured from sight by the heavy machinery in the room. Nester's mouth was open and quivering. He looked to Gerhard with tears in his eyes. His whimper of fear was interrupted by a shrill, animal cry. A large, blue-green reptilian form pounced from behind the communications array and swooped past Nester. A wet, slicing sound followed the cry, and Nester's head whirled from his neck and spun into the air. Blood sprayed from the disembodied head and dirtied the nearby walls and technical equipment. The offending form was out of site as quickly as it had appeared. Gerhard swore and had flicked the safety to semi-automatic by the time Nester's head hit the ground. The body however was still standing unsteadily on its feet. The air seeped out of the body's lungs and a hollow sigh escaped from the open throat. After a few more moments, the body finally sunk to its knees and slumped over to the side. The sanguine liquid poured out of the stump like some horrific rivulet of crimson water.

Gerhard held his SPAS at the ready and advanced carefully towards Nester's corpse. He was hunched over to make himself a smaller target, and after seeing the terrible demise of Nester, kept his neck hunched down as well. His heart was beating furiously. He never had such a rush since his combat time with the UN in Sarajevo. His senses were acute and focused. The world around him was taken in and scrutinized in an instant, all things in sync with his battle awareness. 

He heard the light clip clapping of the creature's clawed footsteps over the pulsating noise of the surrounding equipment. The sound moved behind the large panel on his left. The creature was behind the jammer. This section of the machine only went as high as his chest when standing. Gerhard was crouched down at the time, maintaining his low profile. The sound stopped and Gerhard heard a distinct, raspy breath. He slowly, cautiously raised his head up, trying to see over the panel. His finger was waiting anxiously on the trigger; the slightest stir would set it off. Inch by inch, the space behind the panel came into view, until it revealed… 

Nothing. The attack came from the side. At the instant he heard the ear-piercing scream of the creature, he dropped to his knees and rolled backwards. As he tumbled away from the panel, Gerhard caught a fleeting glimpse of the creature swoop down and into the panel. Its foot long talons cut easily through the metal and the controls were reduced to ripped fragments. Gerhard finished his roll against the machine opposite from the torn one. Still in a crouch, he sized up his opponent. 

Its blue-green skin was marked with gray warts and drawn over its sinew and muscle like scales over steel. Its eyes were red and tinged with yellow. A peculiar sense of calm settled over Gerhard as he looked at the demonic monstrosity. Apparently Gerhard was the prey, and this living obscenity was the Hunter.

Gerhard never stayed hunted for long. The Hunter had almost recovered from his failed attempt on Gerhard. Wasting no time, Gerhard let lose a three round volley of shells. The first struck it in the face, the Hunter's head rending and tearing. The other two landed center-mass into the Hunter's chest. The shells broke open the Hunter's ribcage and destroyed its organs. The ravaged creature made one last heave before collapsing into a bloody mess. Gerhard kept his weapon trained on the Hunter as he inspected it. Its bone and skin had to be thick and dense. The head was still intact and the chest wound hadn't broken through to the other side. A single shell from the SPAS could vaporize the chest of a man. Gerhard sighed. This creature would surely be a bitch of Gerhard's existence. 

Gerhard turned his attention to the jammer. The interface was destroyed, and its security software had already sent it into a lock-up. The software's fail safe could be penetrated solely by level-one security codes that came from the Umbrella Headquarters. The codes were such a strongly kept secret that they were changed daily. There was no way to shut the jammer down by conventional methods. Luckily, Gerhard was used to being unconventional. Gerhard flipped the still bleeding corpse of Nester Carlisle over on its stomach and opened the backpack. He removed from it a small rectangle of beige plastic putty. He also took out an inch-long metal cylinder fuse and a remote. Gerhard gently eased the cylinder into the putty, and then affixed the putty to the jamming machine. Then he stopped. Something was wrong. 

Kelly had not spoken for a very long time. Gerhard suddenly realized his folly. His radio had accidentally been switched off when he had rolled backwards. He quickly turned it on, just in time to hear Kelly's frantic voice, "—need to get out of there _now! He's in the elevator and he's going to get off on __your level! Hurry!" _

Gerhard felt a presence, a tremor. The vibration was slight, yet distinct. The floor jittered and trembled in a slow, rhythmic pace. The sounds seemed to come from the main hallway. Thomas was close. Gerhard growled exasperatedly and wiped his sweating brow. "I copy." He refocused on the explosive and entered the fuse's number into the digital remote. The remote beeped in confirmation and the display showed the fuse's identification number, and a stopped timer that remained at fifteen seconds. 

Gerhard and Nester had entered the room through the side, service entrance. The giant was approaching from the main hallway, and fast. The portentous footsteps thudded rapidly and began to resemble machine gun fire. They were so damnably _close!__ Gerhard jumped behind a console positioned merely four feet from the main hallway door. He ducked behind the console and became as small as he possibly could right when the footsteps were at the door. The door was knocked completely off its hinges and rocketed across the room. It crashed into a wall and blew bits of plaster into the air. The giant ran inside, sounding off his ungodly roar. The giant began searching the room. He tore panels apart and threw chairs away like they were made of Styrofoam._

Seeing his chance, Gerhard slipped away from hiding and darted out the gaping hole. He pushed the remote button, activating the timer and the digital readout began to cycle down its deadly count. Gerhard dashed down the hallway as fast as his limber legs could carry him. The hallway was not nearly as clean as the upper level's. Gore and blood was littered throughout the hallway. Bodies of the unlucky Umbrella employees were sprawled out in putrefied piles. The giant had been erasing the living evidence of the accident. The main elevator was ahead. Gerhard couldn't get to the security office from it, but he could at least get to another floor, another place away from the giant. He could get on the service elevator later and then rendezvous with the rest. It would work. It had to. 

Thomas roared. Gerhard glimpsed at his timer; ten seconds left. He punched the elevator call button. The doors opened immediately and Gerhard rushed in, whirling around to see if the giant was following him. Thomas was just outside the hallway, and it had something in his hand. He threw the object towards Gerhard with frightening accuracy. Seven seconds left. Gerhard knew what it was before it reached him. He pointed his SPAS at the escape hatch on the elevator ceiling and blew it clear off. The plastic explosive smacked against the elevator wall and plopped on the ground right as the doors closed. Five seconds left. Gerhard slung the SPAS over his shoulder and then hoisted himself up through the blasted open hatch. Three seconds left. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, nearby there was a grated air duct. Two seconds. Gerhard threw himself into the duct, crashing through the aluminum grating. One. Explosion. Cacophony. Fire. Burning. Pain. Then Life. 


End file.
